


The Art Of Shutting Up

by darkandtwisty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Sam, Drunk Reader, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6336241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandtwisty/pseuds/darkandtwisty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8. "He's standing right behind me isn't he?"</p>
<p>Or the one where you've had way to much to drink and you confess a few of your deepest desires to Sam about his big brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art Of Shutting Up

“Your brother is an idiot,” You slurred, pointing a finger in Sam’s direction. “Actually your brother is really smart, I’m the idiot. I’m the one who fell in love with him.” A sigh fell past your lips and you propped your elbow up on the table, cradling your chin in your palm.

Three tequila shots and ¼ a bottle of Jack later and any and all filter you had, was long gone.

“Don’t fall in love on the job,” You quoted yourself in a mocking tone, letting out a bitter laugh,   
“Already kinda shot that horse in the face.”

“I knew it. I knew you had it bad for him.”

“Damn right I do. Is that so bad, Sam? Is it so bad that I wanna kiss his stupid, perfect face?” You asked as you hiccuped.

Sam chuckled at your confession and your drunk state. If he had known a few drinks is all it would take for you to spill your obvious feelings for his brother, he would’ve gotten you drunk a long time ago. He was so sick of you both mopey around, making googly eyes at each other, and acting like you weren’t dying to just each others bones.

“I can’t tell him that I want him- pfft no way, that’s a bad idea,” You sighed, “but God, Sammy do I want him. I want him bad. In every position.”

“Okay, that’s- ew, this is getting a little-,” Sam stuttered.

The sound of heavy boots thudded down the hallway but you were too lost in your own thoughts to notice.

“I just wanna give his things y'know, like,” You paused for a moment, bringing the shot glass to your lips and downing the alcohol in one gulp, “orgasms and self-esteem.”

“Umm, Y/N-,” Sam’s eyes were wide but you just kept speaking; thoughts flowing out of your mouth like word vomit.

_You should stop talking._

“Every time I see him washing Baby, all I think about is going out there, getting a little soapy and letting him bend me over the hood, and just fuck me sens-”

“Y/N!” He yelled, cutting you off.

Sam had a shell-shocked look on his face and he gestured behind you with a tilt of his head.

Realization hit you like a truck, sobering you up instantly and you gulped audibly. “He’s standing right behind me isn’t he?”

_Yeah, you really should’ve stopped talking._

Sam nodded slowly, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and you reluctantly turned in your seat to face the older Winchester.

Dean cocked an eyebrow, eyes flashing with lust and a smirk working its way onto his stupidly, beautiful face. “So, you wanna go help me wash Baby?”

_Oh, fuck yes._


End file.
